


Exit Wounds

by dralexreid



Series: Dr Piper Bishop [51]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28057923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid
Summary: Garcia plays a crucial role in the case when she travels to Alaska with the BAU to investigate the murders of several residents of a small town || Piper and Spencer celebrate their 1st anniversary.
Relationships: Dr Spencer Reid/Dr Piper Bishop
Series: Dr Piper Bishop [51]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Exit Wounds

JJ and Emily emerged from the café into the brisk night air, holding 4 warm cups of coffee as they continued their arbitrary argument. “JJ, that’s not the point.” JJ grumbled, mentally looking to the heavens to help her friend.

“Well, are you gonna call him?” she asked Emily who simply pulled a face.

“Maybe.”

“Ugh, Emily!” JJ cried to the stars.

“Mick Rawson is an arrogant, over-sexed, egotistical—”

“Hot British dude with a sexy accent, badge and gun. Just your type,” JJ countered, resulting in Emily sighing in defeat. “Okay, you know what? I don’t even get you sometimes,” she continued, noticing a familiar duo walking up to them, one excited, the other defeated while holding a bike helmet.

“It’s not going to go anywhere.”

“You don’t know that” JJ protested.

“I know our work schedules,” Emily shot back.

“Okay, Will and I make it work.”

“Will isn’t in the Bureau.”

“Reid and Bishop make it work,” JJ amended.

“They’re in the same unit, practically joined at the hip,” Emily said emphatically, and the argument stopped as JJ’s eyes saw Penelope approach, armed to the teeth with bags. Emily followed her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Piper said wearily. “Shopping stamina is not my specialty.” Emily chuckled as they approached each other.

“Look, when you see what’s in here, and it's not my fault. They were calling to me, I swear. And they were all on sale. And when you think about it, that means that I am helping the economy, which is more than I can say for you guys, 'cause no one else has bags.”

“Please tell me all of those aren't for my son,” JJ sighed.

“They're not,” Piper said sardonically, lifting up the tiny black bag held in Penelope’s pinkie. “This one is for Kevin.”

“What?” Penelope cried as the girls laughed. “It is my duty as a fairy godmother to spoil the child. And Henry is finally old enough to be fun when opening presents. I'm not taking them back, especially when Piper bought stuff too. Give me my coffee and no one's gonna get hurt,” she threatened. JJ handed Penelope’s order, reading it aloud as she stretched it out.

“Half-caf extra shot venti, 2-pump non-fat, hold the whip, caramel macchiato.”

“You were meant to stop her, Pipes,” Emily said, holding back another peal of laughter.

“In my defence, it was working,” Piper protested, and Emily raised an eyebrow at her best friend. “Until Penelope convinced me that Henry’s almost at a key reading stage and I have a responsibility as a former educator to make sure he’s at a college reading level despite not even going to school yet.” Emily held her gaze until Piper broke down. “And then she reminded me that I still haven’t bought Spencer a gift for tomorrow, and I broke,” she confessed.

“What did you get him?”

“Ascaaf,” Piper mumbled.

“A what?”

“A scarf, okay?” Emily and JJ shared a look before laughing at their weak-willed colleagues. “Now give me my tea,” she pleaded. Emily offered Piper her chai latte, who grasped the cup warmly before meeting the others for a cheer.

“Next stop, Xanadu,” Penelope cheered, and Piper laughed with Emily as JJ heard her cell beep, pulling a face they all recognised.

“More like Xana-don’t.”

“No,” Emily said. “How are they the only one who gets to shop?”

“Back to the BAU,” JJ sighed, and the women groaned collectively. Emily looked at the lights pensively.

“Maybe I should get a cat,” she thought aloud and Piper snorted. The ladies split up, Penelope taking the SUV with JJ while Emily hitched a ride with Piper on her bike. It took them about 20 minutes to reach Quantico, dumping their bags and refilling their coffee as Spencer and Derek arrived mere minutes later. Hotch was there first, seeing as he practically lived in the building and Rossi arrived last, no doubt from some fancy rich thing from his outfit. Emily wolf-whistled as he walked into the briefing room porting an undone bowtie and classic tuxedo.

“Sorry to ruin your night,” Hotch scoffed.

“You working on wife number 4?” Derek teased as he made to take a seat between Hotch and Derek, painfully aware of Piper snorting in front of him.

“I see you people way too much,” Rossi grumbled, sitting down.

“Alright,” JJ started, gazing over her team fondly. Spencer was to her direct right side, wearing a distinctly plum outfit. His shirt was collared, nothing fancy, but suited his skin tone as he paired it with a darker vest and matching tie. Piper flanked him, wearing all the opposites. She’d donned a canary-yellow blazer she’d found left by her desk paired with the lacy white top from their night out. Hotch wore his usual, a pale blue button-up with a dark blazer and maroon tie. Rossi looked sour in his crisp suit and Derek grinned by his side with a plain dark t-shirt that accentuated his shoulders and upper torso. Penelope’s flaming red hair, complete with a faux rose headband, contrasted sharply with her white jacket and a dark dress. On her left side, Emily had discarded her thin shawl, her pale arms bare as she faced JJ. JJ took a beat to suppress her smile before continuing on. “Anchorage Field Office is asking us to investigate a series of murders in Franklin, Alaska. There are 3 people dead in less than a week.”

“For a town with a population of 1, 476, that's fairly significant,” Spencer pointed out helpfully.

“It's their first murder investigation on record,” JJ continued.

“Who are the victims?” Rossi prodded and JJ turned to her screen.

“Uh, Jon Baker, a hunter. Dedaimia Swanson, a schoolteacher. Brenda Bright, the first mate on a fishing boat. There's a new victim every 2 days.”

“Any connections?” Emily asked.

“Unfortunately, in a town this small, everyone's connected.”

“Different kill methods,” Derek pointed out. “First two killed by a rifle, the third stabbed with an arrow.”

“Also, with an arrow,” Piper phrased slowly. “The first thing that would come to mind would be shooting it.”

“What do you mean?” Rossi asked. Piper blinked slowly, unsure how to phrase the answer.

“Stabbing someone with an arrow isn’t as effective as shooting someone with it. You gain more velocity with a bow and therefore more strength. Stabbing with an arrow’s completely unorthodox and won’t do as much damage unless you pull it out.”

“So, he’s either an idiot, a sadist or he can’t shoot a bow?”

“Nothing stopping him from being all three,” Piper said, pursing her lips and Rossi just stared at her for a beat before moving on.

“Are we sure it’s the same guy?”

“All 3 victims were found in heavily trafficked areas,” Hotch answered quickly. “The unsub wants them found sooner than later.” _And we want the unsub found sooner than later._

“Jon Baker's body was left exposed to the elements,” Emily proposed, “but the two women were buried under mounds of trash. Why?”

“It could be a sign of remorse,” Spencer answered. “Cover their bodies so he doesn't have to face the reality of what he's done.”

“Or he thinks that the women are trash and he's just placed them where he thinks they belong,” Derek countered.

“John was his first kill, it’s possible he panicked and left the body there,” Piper suggested

“And became more careful with the women,” Rossi added.

“Well, we can't be sure of anything yet,” JJ said, hooking each finger into her pockets. “Franklin is an isolated fishing community that's been hit really hard by the current economy. Add to that a series of unsolved murders and everyone's on edge.”

“The local sheriff's out of his depth,” Hotch commented. “And Alaska hasn't handled a serial investigation since Robert Hansen in the eighties. We'll fly out tonight. Everybody can sleep on the plane. Garcia, I need you with us.”

“Sir?” Garcia asked, a question embedded in the respectful reply.

“I've tasked a satellite uplink and it's your job to keep us connected.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, glancing at Morgan next to her who smiled at her encouragingly.

“This town's already on the brink, and if this pattern continues, we've only got another day until the next murder. Let's finish this fast.” The team shuffled off to get their go-bags and divided into two to go to the airport. The ladies took one car with Garcia starting an impromptu karaoke session while the boys took the other car.

Exhausted, the group slumped into their seats and crashed for a few hours until first light. Piper awoke at 5 to see Spencer’s glasses askew on his face, his finger marking a page in his book. Unclasping her belt, Piper slipped a bookmark out from her bag, stuck it in his book and laid it to the side before putting his glasses away safely and tucking him in tighter and pressing a kiss to his forehead. She grabbed a duffel from under her seat before shuffling off to the bathroom to change, then make a cup of tea.

One by one, each team member woke up; Spencer and Hotch by 6, JJ by 6:30, Derek and Emily at 7, Rossi and Garcia by 7:30. Eventually, they’d gathered to one end of the jet as Emily perused her file. Piper stood behind her, an elbow casually leaned on the top. Garcia was draped over the couch, watching the snow-capped peaks of Alaska glide past the window. Spencer sat beside her, crossing a leg over the other, donning a deep green overcoat next to Hotch who had given up his suit for a brown sweater and jeans, a far throw from his usual attire. Rossi was dressed similarly, a sleeveless jacket casually adorning his frame. All that was left was a baseball cap, Piper noted, and he would fit right in. Derek hadn’t bothered with warmer clothes, simply pairing a dark leather jacket with his deep brown shirt. Piper’s attention was yanked back to Emily who started speaking.

“Crosses sex and race boundaries. He changed his kill method. It says to me he's disorganized.”

“Yet there weren't prints at any of the crime scenes, and he isolated his victims,” Rossi countered.

“Wearing gloves and making sure there aren't any witnesses— that's a no-brainer,” Derek added. “But what concerns me is the evolution of the kills.”

“Evolution?” JJ asked, turning to face him.

“Well, he started with easy prey,” Derek said. “Jon Baker was in his mid-sixties. It's relatively low-risk for a first-timer. Dedaimia Swanson was in her early fifties. She wouldn't be that difficult to overpower.”

“But he didn't have to overpower either one of them,” Spencer argued. “Both victims were shot.”

“Which is my point exactly. He killed them both from a safe distance. But Brenda Bright was younger, more athletic. She would have been able to put up much more of a fight, so why not shoot her, too?”

“Maybe that’s what he wanted,” Piper proposed. “If he’s a thrill-seeker, it’s more than plausible that the first two just didn’t challenge him. Might mean he’s experimenting with his M.O.”

“It supports the disorganised theory,” Hotch said.

“Let’s not forget, Brenda Bright was an attractive woman and he stabbed her, didn’t shoot her. I think we all know what that means.” The more seasoned profilers knew what Rossi was suggesting, but Piper and Penelope both shared a confused look. Hotch struggled to keep a smile buried inside as he caught it.

“When we land in Anchorage, there'll be a floatplane to take us to Franklin,” Hotch said before giving out instructions. “When we get there, Morgan and Prentiss work the crime scene. We need to know exactly how he ambushed his victims. Reid and Rossi, the bodies. Find out what you can there. JJ and I will work victimology. Piper, get your bearings on the town. It’s a small community, maybe you can get us something and, Garcia, town records. Find us something we can use.”

“Yes, sir. I should let everybody know that reception in the area is unreliable at best. I'm giving everybody satellite phones for communication, and I've already pre-programmed all your digits into speed dial. Guess who's lucky number 7.”

Emily and Derek chuckled, and JJ turned to watch the sky as they landed into Anchorage. With only one floater plane, Hotch volunteered to go first, dragging JJ and Penelope with him. The next flight took Spencer, Piper and the team’s luggage while Emily distracted the boys long enough for the floater to start. Finally, Emily, Derek and Rossi took the last floater in and within a few minutes managed to tumble out of the small contraption.

While the group trooped out to their respective jobs, Emily and Derek lingered on the raised platform, introducing themselves to Deputy Flack.

Meanwhile, Hotch and JJ met the sheriff who heartily encouraged them to work from the local tavern, what with the police station having merged with the post office. Reid and Rossi took the time to meet with the local medical examiner, who was also the town’s only doctor, and examine the bodies more fully while Garcia set up shop in the tavern. Piper sat down beside her, placing a cup of hot coffee on a free spot.

“So, how do you know she was uh, stabbed, not shot?” Garcia asked her, lifting laptop after laptop from her bags.

“Pen, you don’t have to—”

“Piper, please. I get worse gunk on my laptop. Remember Tattoo Dick?” Bishop chuckled and licked her lips before answering.

“The arrow would have been much deeper, and it was uh,” Piper paused, glancing around before picking up a napkin and pen. She hastily drew a not-great version of Brenda. “It was found much lower on the body, here.” She stabbed the pen through sketch-Brenda’s pelvis. “If he’d shot her there, it wouldn’t have killed her instantly.” Penelope shuddered, focusing on her screens. “Anything else—”

“No, no. I’m good here. Go do your psych eval stuff.” Piper chuckled before pressing a kiss to Penelope’s hair and leaving to talk to the tavern owner. As Penelope clicked away, a young stranger cropped up from behind her.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to make this place a little less analogue,” Penelope joked, turning to beam at the unmoved man. “Sorry, I forget my hacker jokes aren’t funny. I’m Penelope. I'm the one who doesn't carry a weapon, aside from my biting wit. And my job includes combining my kick-ass systems with your sheriff's department database to get the skinny on your neighbours and you.”

“Or you could just ask us what you want to know. I mean, isn't it better to just talk to us directly than look up our dirt secretly?”

“No. Because in my experience, the information superhighway never lies, and people do. Your name would be?”

“Josh. My mom Carol, she owns the place.”

“It goes like this,” Penelope said, turning back to her screens to type out his first name and address and his mother’s name. “Here we are.” Josh moved to take a seat beside Penelope on the couch. “Joshua Beardsley, age 23, born right here in Franklin, AK. Moved to Anchorage for middle and high school. Majored in hotel management at Seattle U. And you moved back home a few weeks ago.”

“Perfect timing, huh? I come home, people start dying.”

“Hmm. That's when I check your criminal record. And you, my friend, are clean as a whistle.”

“What does that even mean?” Josh looked over at the adorable red-head.

“No idea,” she said laughing.

“No dirt, anyway, so, I guess I'm safe, then?”

“For now,” she said in mock-suspense as Piper approached. Bishop banged on the back of the couch.

“Pen, can you get me a list of people and addresses close to our vics?”

“Sure thing,” Penelope said, and Joshua made himself disappear. Piper watched admiringly as Penelope clacked her dark nails on the keyboard. “Sent to your PDA.”

“You’re the best,’ Piper grinned.

“Don’t I know it,” Penelope exclaimed as Piper left.

* * *

The rest of the day went by smoothly and Penelope sat quietly by the screens as night fell to the sound of hooting owls and croaking frogs. One by one, they began to pile in, Hotch and JJ first, then Emily and Derek, then Piper and finally Rossi and Reid who clearly shouldn’t have taken this long to get back. Rossi blamed Reid’s driving as JJ and Derek handed everyone mugs of coffee. Each agent listened intently to the intel they’d gathered. Derek and Emily described each crime scene as best they could, but the rabid bear in the woods meant that the sheriff and his deputy had been forced to cover up the blood, contaminating the scene. Reid and Rossi took over, explaining that he was clearly experimenting with the M.O. as they’d proposed before.

“He shot John 3 times before getting it right and then urinated on him, succeeded with Dedaimia and then violated Brenda Bright with an arrow,” Rossi said and both Piper and Penelope’s faces contorted. JJ just sighed like she’d seen worse.

“And he's inciting panic,” Derek continued. “People who have lived here most of their lives are packing up to leave.”

“Can you blame them?” JJ scoffed. “We have a psychopath whose hunting ground is a town of 1, 400 people.” The room died down and Rossi lifted a poker to turn over the fireplace, looking far too at home in this small town. Piper would have made a joke at that with Emily, but she was too busy pacing.

“You said he urinated on John?” She turned.

“Yes, Bishop,” he said with extreme patience. Piper turned to Spencer.

“Oh my god, it’s that thing,” she exclaimed, flapping her hand as she tried to explain her brain fart.

Spencer narrowed his eyes at her and Hotch looked confused when the former spoke up.

“What thing?”

“Jeez, that thing you said like 3 weeks ago with the dog. That Dalmatian that was barking, remember?” Spencer stared at her, blinking slowly until his eyes widened, memory clicking in.

“You remember that?”

“Yeah, something about marking something." Piper grimaced at her own inarticulateness. "The dog thing.” The team looked between each other, then Spencer, then Piper.

“It makes sense,” he murmured, and Piper beamed at him, widening her arms.

“The urine makes sense?” Derek asked

“It’s a hunting trick,” Spencer proclaimed.

“Yeah,” Piper grinned. “Think about it, the rifles, the arrows, the urine, they’re all hunting tools.”

Rossi finally caught on to the assclowns. “You urinate downwind to keep the animals away. He tried to preserve Jon Baker's body so it would be discovered intact. And you said my hunting skills wouldn’t come into use in the field,” he accused Derek, who grinned before handing over a twenty-dollar bill.

“All right, so we've got a psychopath with hunting skills who knows the routines of everyone in town,” JJ said. “How are we supposed to keep everyone safe?”

“Sheriff, I suggest you institute a curfew until we have the unsub in custody,” Hotch said to the tall man leaning against the fireplace. “Nobody out after dark.”

“I'll have one of my deputies patrolling around the clock,” the sheriff said.

“Garcia, how's it coming with town records?”

“I've run everyone who's been printed through CODIS,” Garcia reported. “Nothing came up so far. I'm gonna pull an all-nighter, finish going through the town records. Should have background checks by sunrise.”

“Good. The rest of us should get some sleep, start fresh in the morning,”

“Slightly bad news on that front,” Piper voiced. “They’ve only got 4 rooms.”

“Oh, come on, that's the best we can do,” the sheriff piped up. “Your team is double the size of my department. I'll see you in the morning.” He saluted Hotch before shuffling out.

“It looks like we'll have to double up,” Hotch sighed.

“I'm not sleeping with Rossi,” Derek said immediately. “He snores.”

“Dibs,” Penelope called, raising an arm to touch Derek’s hand. Piper grinned and they all shuffled off to grab a hot shower and dinner, complimentary by Carol. JJ left the group to call Will and Henry. Piper noticed an empty chair and full plate beside her where Hotch should have been as he moved away from the team’s makeshift mess hall to peruse the file. She squeezed Spencer’s shoulder before taking their plate and moving over to Hotch.

“This seat taken?” Hotch gestured for her to ‘go ahead’ and Piper took the seat. She settled her own plate and Hotch’s on the table. She knew that Hotch, like Spencer, never did well with small talk, so she did It for him. “Daniel went to Alaska once. Took his girlfriend to turn a work trip into a vacation, and they went to this restaurant that served reindeer and deer. So, he called up the waiter,” she said through laughter. “And he asked him the difference. And he said—”

“One is Rudolph, the other is Bambi, you decide who you love more,” he deadpanned.

“Already told you that one?” Piper asked, wincing. He just nodded before flipping through his file. Piper sighed, glancing back at Rossi who raised an eyebrow at her. She just shrugged imperceptibly.

“You should go have dinner with the others.” Piper sighed again, scrunching her lips together before making a decision. Without any room for doubt, Piper put the file back together and placed it aside, placing Hotch’s table in front of him fluidly.

“Fresh start, remember?”

“Bishop give me the file,” he directed.

“No.” She jutted her chin out, meeting his gaze equivocally. “You know the case inside out. What are you avoiding, Hotch?”

“I don’t know—”

“Yes, you do. Hotch, it doesn’t take a profiler to know that every time you have to do something with this—” She pointed to his breast pocket. “—instead of this—” She pointed to his scalp. “You try to make a mountain out a molehill to run away from it.” She took a beat. “What are you so afraid of, Hotch?” Aaron looked at her fondly.

“Haley always did that,” he murmured to her. “She had this weird ability to see things in people. In me,” he amended.

“Hotch, you know we’re here for you,” she said softly. “Always.” Hotch nodded sleepily.

“She always took care of everything, always made Jack feel loved. I just…I don’t know if I have what it takes,” he said sullenly. Piper was silent, mulling over how best to comfort him.

“Why?” she asked genuinely.

“Because some days I can’t look him in the eye. If I didn’t have this job, Piper, he would still have a mom. I would still have…” he trailed off, looking over to meet Piper’s tender gaze. He was uncharacteristically vulnerable. Here, in front of her, Hotch gave her a glimpse into his deepest insecurities. “How do I do this?” Piper sucked in a breath, leaning back against the chair.

“You want my experience or my research?”

“Whichever gives me a solution.” Piper chuckled, rubbing at her lower teeth with her tongue.

“I was really proud of my dad. He was a cop, had a uniform, saved lives, stopped crime. So, whenever he came home late or missed a milestone, I excused it. His job was more important. Always. The job comes first. So, I didn’t have a sweet 16 because I was too busy buying groceries and fixing up dinner. I didn’t have an 18th because I was too busy getting Daniel ready for his SATs. He wasn’t there. Not at my graduation, not at Dan’s scholarship ceremony, not at Lucy’s prize ceremony and we all just…forgave him. Because the job came first,” she said simply and Hotch absorbed her meaning.

“I never went home last night,” Hotch whispered and Piper laid a hand on his arm.

“He loves you. So much. You’re better than any superhero because you’re real.” Piper hated what she was about to say next. “But kids grow up. And maybe it’s a little selfish, but they’re human. They want to mean the world to their parents, just like you mean to Jack.”

“He’s everything to me. He’s all I have left,” Hotch confessed.

“Hotch, loving someone means nothing if the other person doesn’t know it.”

“How- how do I fix it?” he asked desperately, and Piper smiled.

“It’s probably just before his bedtime over there. Call him,” she shrugged. “Ask him how his day was. What he learned at school today. What he had for dinner. That’s all we ever need.” Hotch glanced over his table with new eyes.

“I gotta go.”

“Night, Dad,” she said, smiling as her boss hastily grabbed his cell and left. Piper couldn’t wipe the grin off her face, especially when he doubled back to press a kiss to her hair.

“Night, kid.” Piper’s smile faded when she turned to her plate, giving the fish a sour look when Spencer appeared over her shoulder.

“I’ve got a surprise upstairs.” He smirked before disappearing. Piper chortled, making her way up. She knocked on Room 12.

“Reid?” she called out. “Let me in.” She almost fell through the door as it swung open. Piper raised an eyebrow before turning to the rest of the room. The balcony was swung open and Spencer had managed to pull out all the stops possible with fairy lights adorning the windowpane and a plated meal ready. “Spence, this is amazing,” she whispered. No-one had ever done something like this for her. Arthur had proposed to her in a parking lot. Drew hadn’t lasted long enough to have an anniversary.

“Derek helped me cook,” he said lamely. “And there aren’t many flower shops in Franklin, Alaska.”

“Spence,” she breathed, reaching to hold her hand. “This is amazing.”

“You said that already,” he pointed out with a shaky laugh.

“Cause it’s true.” She laughed shortly. “No-one’s ever—” She turned to meet his gaze as he rubbed his thumb into her hand.

“You mean everything to me,” he said honestly. Piper looked at him in incredulity.

“I only got you a scarf,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, I should’ve—” But she couldn’t finish the thought. Spencer had reached to cup her jaw in his free hand, fluidly pulling her to him as he leaned down. She tasted his lips on hers, blindly taking in his heat, the scent of cinnamon and smoke filling her lungs. The moment he broke away was a moment too soon and Piper slowly opened her eyes.

“Also, I know you’re not a fan of fish.” Piper laughed, leaning her forehead on his chest, tangling her fingers in his. “You got me a scarf?” Piper jerked up, her head bumping into his chin.

“Oh, sorry, I’m so sorry,” she murmured over and over, grazing her thumb over his jaw, failing to ignore how handsome he looked in the dusky light. He stopped himself from leaning down to her lips. “Right,” Piper cleared her throat. “The scarf. Hold on.” Spencer chewed on his lip, rubbing a thumb over cold metal in his pocket. “I don’t know why I thought of it, I just saw it and it was purple and you wear a lot of purples,” she mumbled, turning down with warm lavender material and a leather-bound book. She tucked a loose strand from her braid away, passing both over. She smiled weakly as he took it, eyes narrowed at the gift.

“You aren’t going to put it on?” he said, pulling his best puppy dog eyes and Piper chuckled shakily. She took it hastily, draping the soft material over his neck, pulling one side through a folded loop and tightening it just enough so it hung loosely to his neck. He gathered the book in his hands, opening it to see the various illustrations of flowers and plants. “Botany,” he murmured, flipping through the book, with the air of finishing it there and then.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” she reminded him with a laugh. He snapped the book shut, gently tossing it to the bed.

“Right, you must be starving.”

“Very,” she beamed as he pulled her to the little table. She glanced happily at the spaghetti. “When did you cook this?”

“Last night,” he said bashfully. “Derek helped me out with it.” Piper laughed.

“Derek doesn’t know how to work the office microwave.”

“True,” Spencer admitted. “He does know how to work a phone.” Piper snickered as Spencer pulled out her seat.

“Don’t tell me you roped Papa Rossi into this.”

“We tried. He was at a wine tasting. He called his mom.” Spencer laughed and Piper rolled up her white sleeves, so as not to get sauce on her. Spencer passed her a fork before popping a bottle of cheap champagne. “Also, I told you about dogs marking their territory at 4 am. Why would you remember that?” Piper shrugged, handing him her empty glass.

“I dunno. Just did.” The two just sat and talked about nothing in particular. Certain things Spencer had read in his endless supply of books. New research Piper was excited about. A list of conferences they really wanted to go to. Which scientist they would want to meet if they could. Incidentally, Spencer’s was Jung while Piper’s was Freud just to smack him silly about the Electra complex. Somehow, they’d migrated from the table to their bed, Piper leaning her head on Spencer’s thigh. She was still talking about how amazing Piaget was as Spencer turned over the metal in his pocket.

“I mean, just look at the transformation from Freud to Piaget. Talking about penis envy and—”

“I got you something,” he blurted finally and Piper stopped abruptly. Her eyes crinkled as he pulled out the smooth metal object from his pocket. “I just saw it and thought you’d like it.” Piper laughed once she got a good look at it.

“It’s a fob watch,” she exclaimed and Spencer handed it over to her eager palms. She rubbed her thumb over the engraved pattern on the top. “Thank you.” She pressed a kiss to Spencer’s lips.

“My thigh hurts,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Tough. You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.” Piper grinned at Spencer’s pout before rising up to kiss him again. He was lulled into a deep sleep with Piper’s finger drawling over his bare arm, her warm breath against his skin.

* * *

Downstairs, Penelope dialled Kevin from the lounge as she went through her background checks. _“What do you mean you’re sharing a room with Morgan?”_

“Oh, you're jealous,” Garcia teased.

_“Jealous? Why? Because you're bedding down with a... Muscle-bound, modern-day 007?”_

“Mm, he's more like Jason Bourne,” Penelope teased him even harder.

 _“Oh, what's there to be jealous about?”_ Kevin said bitterly.

“He took the floor,” Penelope said quietly, as though settling an angry hound.

 _“Ok. Just... Just make sure he keeps his weapon holstered, OK?”_ Penelope laughed before letting loose a yawn.

“Why are you up anyway? It’s so late.”

“Actually, it’s early. I just got to Quantico.”

“Oh, damn time zones,” Penelope remembered as the satellite phone in her hand went dead, the green light of the cell display, now a dull gray. “Hello?” Penelope’s eye caught on her screen which had white text flashing onto the black background.

Loss of signal.

Penelope groaned, swearing as she got up. She withdrew a flashlight from her purse and an extra jacket from the sofa before venturing into cold Alaska. The woman trudged through heavy snow, shining her flashlight on the icy path, then the large vent before her. In the darkness, the tech analyst stood on the platform, weaving around the vent to the machinery inside. Her flashlight caught on the pad linked to her satellite and with a few stabs and turning it off and on again, the little bulb blinked green and Penelope sighed in relief. “Nice one, Garcia,” she praised, rising from the machine in the cold, dark air. A breeze whistled past her and she flinched, looking back into the darkness. She turned the corner, torchlight flashing around as she continued into the darkness, leaves crunching underfoot. Penelope’s breath quickened as she probed into the woods, searching for the noise of unfamiliar footsteps. She turned another corner, up the path to the town and her torchlight followed her gaze, falling on a figure leaning over something. She stared, failing to adjust to her circumstances and the figure straightened and started sprinting in the other direction. Her first instinct, as Derek would point out later, should have been to run back and call for help. Instead, she ran forward, as fast as her heels would allow, until she was knee-deep in leaves, cradling a man. Blood dribbled from his mouth, the same colour as her hair, and she pressed a hand to his torso, wet and warm. “Stay with me,” she cried to him. “Please, just look at me. Stay with me, please,” she begged until the man went limp in her arms. His head lolled and his skin became colder. Crying, she yelled as loud as her voice would carry. She had no idea what the time was or if anyone would even be awake.

* * *

Piper was the first to rise from her slumber, which hadn’t been very deep, to begin with, to the faint sound of yelling. She wrinkled her forehead until she recognised the voice, shaking Spencer from his sleep. The remnants of their dinner were strewn on the table and Piper threw him a coat, before grabbing her own coat and gun. She yelled at him to wake the team, taking two steps at a time to rush out the door. She’d unholstered her gun, ready to protect Penelope, terrified of the worst, only to find the redhead sobbing for help, burying her head in the jacket of a dead man. Piper scanned the surroundings like Hotch had taught her, before kneeling next to Penelope. The rest of the team found them there, Penelope burying her head in Piper’s neck, the latter rubbing her arm. Finally, the tech analyst raised her head, slightly shivering and Piper and Hotch simultaneously took off their jackets, piling both on top of her, before Hotch asked Piper to take her inside. Morgan followed the two women, rubbing sleep from his eyes as Penelope settled on a barstool. Piper ducked under the bar, a strange sight for Derek to behold, but Piper simply brought out a coffee jug, sliding a quick 5 bucks in the register before pouring Penelope a mug and an unopened packet of tissues she’d found. Derek took the reins from there, wiping away Penelope’s leaky mascara as Piper left quietly to join the team outside. She stepped out in the bracing cold, immediately regretting leaving her coat inside. Nevertheless, she trudged over to join the others, her messy plait tickling her neck in the cold.

“His name's Craig Ramey,” the sheriff reported to the others. “Fisherman.”

“Morgan and I met him this morning,” Emily noted as Spencer took off one layer, wrapping it around his girlfriend. “He was packing up to leave.”

“Wait,” Piper voiced. “So were the other victims.”

“What do you mean?” Rossi prompted her.

“Yesterday, I—I talked to friends, family, employers of all the victims. I can’t believe I didn’t piece it together sooner. Baker was divorced, he was about to leave for Fairbanks, Swanson was about to retire and head to Florida, Brenda was planning to leave for a job in Washington,” Piper summed up, stabbing a leg into the ground at her blunder as Spencer leaned over the body.

“So, he’s killing people that want to leave town?” Emily asked. “Do we think he has abandonment issues?”

“Gotta be if he’s killing people just to make them stay.”

“There has to be more to it than that,” Hotch murmured, slightly bitter that no-one offered him a jacket. “He brought the body to the tavern we're staying at. He's telling us that he's not afraid of us.”

“He switched to a hunting knife,” Rossi said, kneeling next to the body as he pointed to the torso, lit up by Reid’s flashlight. “Looks like a jagged edge.”

“There's more physical damage, too,” Spencer pointed out. “Like he was cut open. I won't know until Dr Johnson does an autopsy, but I'd be willing to bet he took a piece of the victim with him.”

“What kind of piece?”

“It's hard to say, but judging from the location, I would guess liver or spleen.”

“Please tell me it’s just some trophy and that he isn’t going to consume it,” Piper grumbled.

“Wouldn’t be the first time it happened,” Emily reminded her, and Piper instantly regretted remembering the enucleator’s case.

* * *

Derek finished cleaning the blood and mascara off Penelope’s face, pausing to listen intently to what she said. “He was alive.”

“What?”

“He was still alive,” she murmured, swaying slightly from shock.

“Baby, there's nothing else you could have done,” Derek reassured her.

“I felt him leave. He was there one second, And then- just a body.” His heart broke for his usually cheerful friend. These cases always hit people in different ways, but right there and then, Derek just wanted to absorb all the pain from her.

“I'm really sorry that you had to see all of that.”

“Derek, I—I didn't see, I was in it. I was sort of used to seeing horrible things from the safety of my screens every day, but this was... right there.” Derek moved a free hand to wipe at her tears.

“Why didn't you go and find someone before you ran out there?” Another tear slipped down her cheek.

“Because when I got shot, I remember thinking the last thing I'm ever gonna see in this life Is the man who killed me, and I couldn't let that happen to him. He had to see something good before he died.”

“You ran right towards the unsub,” he said gently. “You could have been killed.”

“I know that. Don't treat me like I'm the victim.”

“All right. I'm sorry. I want to ask you a couple of questions, all right?”

“No. I—I told you everything I saw.”

“You said the man's face was mostly in shadow, but there was also a lot of blood on it,” he prompted her again as JJ walked through the doors.

“No. Cognitive interviews, breaking someone's death down to a science and statistics—” she said, grumbling as she got up, marching up the steps to her shared room. “That is your world, Derek, not mine!” she yelled. “I will help from mine.”

“Penelope!” He called out for her at the bottom of the staircase, watching her quickly retreating figure.

“Derek,” JJ scolded gently. “Let her go.”

“Will you look after her?” Derek pleaded, his eyes never leaving the disappearing corner. “Please.”

“Of course.” JJ squeezed his arm before following their friend upstairs as Derek left to join the other profilers outside.

Spencer had disappeared with the body by the time he arrived with Hotch’s jacket. Their boss gratefully accepted it and asked him about Garcia. “She’s given all she can,” Derek said sternly and Hotch moved on.

“This guy's taunting us,” Rossi said. “He's one step ahead.”

“I think you're giving him more credit than he deserves,” Hotch countered. “It's like Emily said on the plane, he's all over the place. The victimology's inconsistent, the methodology's evolving, the first kill was sloppy, hesitant, and unplanned.”

“It was an accident,” Emily realised. “But it provoked a sexual response. He got off on it.”

“And he knew then and there he had to kill again,” Derek said. “He learned how to get the job done more efficiently.” Piper looked over her shoulder to listen to Morgan, catching sight of Spencer walking down the hill.

“Yeah, but why the organs?” Rossi asked, well within earshot of the tousled-haired doctor.

“Consumption typically indicates a desire to keep the victim with them. He's having trouble letting go.”

“Fits the abandonment theory,” Emily commented, turning to Hotch. The team all followed her motion, looking to their boss for instructions.

“It'll be light soon,” Hotch directed. “Let's get everybody together and go over what we know.”

* * *

As the sun rose, the sheriff’s department filed into the tavern, all come to listen to the FBI’s profile, all hoping to skewer the bastard who’s killed their friends.

“We're looking for an emotionally immature male,” Hotch started, falling into a familiar rhythm. “Probably in his mid to late twenties, who suffered a traumatic loss.”

“Now, this loss could be anything,” Derek continued. “Death of a parent, separation of a spouse, a loved one who moved away. Something that made the unsub feel abandoned and alone.”

“But this abandonment isn’t new. Our unsub feels detached from the community. He’s not someone you’d usually sit down next to, not great at small talk or conversation. Maybe he feels awkward interacting with people, or his job means he doesn’t get to interact with people. Regardless,” Piper added, feeling more confident with every word. “His abandonment probably started in his adolescence. He could have been bullied, abused, or simply kept in isolation.”

“He'll have extensive hunting experience,” Rossi said. “The bodies were buried not because of remorse; they were buried to protect them from wild animals. His familiarity with the victims' routines suggests the unsub has lived here for most of his life.”

“He also has extensive knowledge of the landscape and surroundings,” Hotch said as Piper slipped away to answer her cell. “So, we should split up and cover the town. Focus on younger residents with a history of petty crimes and assaults. You should look in their trash, fireplaces, even in laundry. Look for signs of bloody clothes or even cuts and bruises. One of the victims may have gotten in a good blow or two before they died.”

“Bring in anyone who seems to have something to hide,” Rossi finished. “The unsub has already broken patterns, So, he could strike again at any time.” They dismissed the officers, watching them file back out, discussing opinions and rumours as they left. Spencer looked up from his seat as Piper returned.

“That was the schoolteacher. I asked her to call me if she recalled any students with homicidal tendencies.” She glanced around quickly, searching for a face, only to find the room empty of all civilians. “She said all the boys enjoy hunting ‘a lot’ but she’s never seen anyone enjoy killing animals as much as Joshua Beardsley.” The sheriff sighed.

“That’ll be Carol’s son. Moved back two weeks ago after his father died.” Hotch, Rossi and the sheriff left as Piper sank into an armchair.

“Everything okay?” Spencer asked as Piper shrank into the soft cushions. She bit her lip, mulling over the question.

“I’m fine. Just,” she hesitated. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

“What would Derek say?” Spencer said, chuckling before imitating his best friend. “Trust your gut, baby girl.” Piper laughed openly.

“Never do that again.” That same uneasy feeling washed over her.

“Okay. What doesn’t feel right?”

“Joshua. You know, I talked to his mom. Josh has always been independent. I mean, if you think about it, it takes a lot of guts to move from somewhere you were born and raised to another state to go to college.” Spencer nodded.

“I was really nervous to go to CalTech,” he suggested.

“Exactly. I mean, I didn’t move Massachusetts until I had my first PhD.”

“Well, we have to take the precaution even if he isn’t,” Spencer reminded her. “If he is, someone else could die tonight.” Piper nodded as JJ came down with two stacked boxes.

“Background checks coming through,” she announced with faux cheer and Piper groaned.

“Just kill me now.” Spencer and JJ laughed as he helped her settle down the boxed. Taking a deep breath, the trio plunged into the files.

Meanwhile, Rossi sat in front of Joshua, placing pictures of the last victim in front of the young man. “The strike was above the gut. It keeps the meat from spoiling. Isn't that right?”

“On a deer, maybe. Doubt it'd be the same for a human.”

“But then he did something interesting. He took the victim's spleen. Now, tell me, why would he do that?”

“No idea.”

“Let's stop playing games, Joshua. Answer my questions and maybe I'll believe you.”

“It's a native hunting tradition, isn't it? Eat part of the kill. Gain the life force of your prey.”

“Not many people know that.”

“I'm not many people,” he shrugged.

“Where did you learn to hunt?”

“Bagged my first deer when I was 7.”

“That's pretty young.”

“My dad taught me how to live off the land. I ate the heart of my first kill.”

“So, you, um, enjoy hunting?”

“It's my favourite thing to do.”

“Then would you say you take pleasure in the kill?”

“Doesn't everyone?”

“Actually, no... They don't.” Rossi gazed into the man’s beady gaze before pushing off the table to join Hotch and the sheriff outside in the crisp Alaskan air.

“What do you think?” Aaron prompted David.

“I'm not sure,” David confessed. “He fits the profile, but he's acting like a man with nothing to hide.”

“The attack cycle's accelerating. He should strike tonight.”

“And if he doesn't, we know we've got our guy in custody.”

“And what if he does?” The sheriff asked, panic starting to set in. “Look, I hate to say it, but half this town matches most of your profile.” Aaron shared a look with David who just shrugged. _Your call._

On the other side of town, the trio had managed to get through more than half of the background checks as JJ noticed Emily approaching while she skimmed through her own pile. “Hey, what you guys working on?”

“Hotch asked us to go through Garcia’s background checks. See if anyone’s planning to skip town.”

“Might be our next victim,” JJ added.

“I’ve got nothing so far,” Piper sighed.

“We need the big guns,” Emily scoffed, and they heard a familiar voice beyond the couch.

“Ripped and ready to rumble,” Penelope said without her usual emotion or flair.

“Pen, if you need more time—” Piper started.

“No, let’s get this bastard.” Penelope sat between Piper and JJ in front of her laptop screens, one with Joshua Beardsley’s face front and centre. “You arrested Joshua?”

“He fits the profile

“Abandonment issue triggered by his father's recent death. Hunting experience, experimentation with animals—”

“No, it’s not him. You don’t understand. The unsub ran away from me.”

“Of course, he did,” Spencer said. “He thought you were FBI.”

“No, Joshua knows I’m a techie, I don’t carry a gun. If he was the unsub, I’d be dead by now.” Piper rubbed Penelope’s shoulder.

“It’s just a precaution. One night,” Piper promised her. “But the unsub might still be out there.” Penelope nodded.

“What do you need me to do?”

“We’re trying to predict possible victims,” Reid summed up. “We know that all four victims planned to leave town for various reasons. We’re looking for anyone that might fit that description, put them in protective custody.”

“Okay, I’m on it.” Penelope moved to tackle her laptop, Emily smiling as she watched the techie in her element. “Kat Allen. She was accepted to the summer honours program at the University of Bloomington. She currently works as a waitress at Big John's Coffeehouse.”

“Penelope, you are—”

“So ready to go home,” she interrupted Emily who nodded and started out of the tavern to call Hotch. She met Derek on her way to the diner and met a young woman with flowing red locks. She was pregnant, they learned, and wanted to get a good job to provide for the child. The father wasn’t in the picture, but she didn’t mind, more than ready to take on the challenge. Though it was only her mom and her boss that knew, they didn’t take any chances, escorting her to the station to be put in protective custody for the night. But the unsub didn’t care. Instead, he chose someone else, someone alone, abandoned, scared and without any form of protection from the federal agents. The sun had barely risen as Emily leaned over Carol’s body, but Alaska only had a handful of daylight hours anyway. It was a home invasion, completely different from the public murders from before. No, Emily thought, this was personal. Her intestines were splayed out against the walls and floor, blood staining harshly against white. But Carol was at the wrong place at the wrong time, usually scheduled to be at the tavern, but with her son sitting behind bars in the police station, no-one would have blamed her for skipping work and having a drink at home, crying for her husband and now her son. To know that, Derek pointed out, he had to have been stalking Carol. It did make sense with the last victim being found near the tavern anyway. But the hardest job was left to Piper and Rossi who trudged over through the police department/post office as the deputies started releasing all dozen of the suspects that they’d accumulated the day before.

She’d never had to break news like this before. Not as a researcher, or a therapist or a teacher. She knew her father had done things like this, breaking bad news to family, but the last time she’d asked him for advice, he’d simply pointed out how unequipped she was for a job like this. But here, sitting beside Joshua, she felt the waves wash over them both. At first the confusion, then the slow, steady realisation of the unspoken truth. His mother had been murdered, and the bastard was still free, breathing, alive in the fresh air that his mother had stopped breathing in. The injustice of it and the incessant questions collided as he grew frustrated at the agents, despite Piper’s ill-effecting attempts to guide him through his loss. But one question seemed to hit at his heart as Rossi asked whether his mom had ever taken in someone who had family problems, maybe someone who had been kicked out or lost someone unexpectedly. Piper and Rossi both watched as his demeanour shifted, wanting to leave immediately. Rossi asked the sheriff to tail Joshua while they tried to track down the unsub with the others at the tavern.

* * *

Garcia started hacking into the college database at Seattle University, trying to find something on Joshua to trace him while the profilers questioned the motives behind killing Carol. Piper tried going through her conversation with her that first morning to no avail. She’d given no sign of an enemy or vendetta. Emily compared Carol’s murder to mutilation, reminding Derek of the rabid bear attacks that the deputy had informed them of. Rossi immediately prompted the sheriff for pictures, and he left immediately for the station again with Hotch, Reid and Bishop in tow. They were lucky the station wasn’t more than a quarter-mile from the tavern and started going through pictures of mutilated animals.

“These animals weren't mutilated by a rabid bear,” Rossi pointed out to the team. “Someone did this.”

“You mean a person,” the sheriff asked preposterously.

“An animal wouldn't have left so much,” Rossi said and the other profilers suddenly understood.

“I should have seen it before. It's homicidal triad 101,” Piper murmured.

“We said the kills were all over the map,” Reid supplied as Piper moved from the group to call the teacher from before. “The unsub lacks sophistication and shows immaturity in his kills because he is immature. He started with animals because that's what he was taught ever since he was a child.”

“And when he got bored with animals,” Hotch continued. “He moved on to more challenging prey. People. Your unsub's a teenage boy.” Within a few minutes, Bishop returned with a name.

“Owen Porter? Apparently, he and Joshua were attached at the hip when they were younger.”

“I've been called out to the Porter house several times,” the sheriff illuminated. “Domestic disturbance. Owen and his mom always covering for the dad.”

On the ride to the Porter residence, Reid and Bishop discussed Owen’s psychological state at the moment while Hotch drove.

“Say Joshua was the only person Owen trusted, with him gone, the kid was left at the hands of an abusive father.”

“Josh’s return from college probably shattered him,” Spencer continued. “Then accidentally killing John Baker would have cracked his psyche.”

“So, he starts killing more?”

“He got off on it. He had to; his urges would have been too strong.”

“Right, and he targeted people trying to leave town. In his mind, when people leave, he gets hurt.” Piper nodded and the car stopped. The four of them left the vehicle, rushing up the small hill to the cabin at the top. Hotch rapped on the engraved glass door and a large burly man swung it open.

“Mr Porter, is your son at home?” Hotch asked sternly.

“What’s it to you?” the man demanded. Piper’s eyes widened as Hotch shoved the man backward with little effort, ordering Mrs Porter to turn the tv off. Reid and the sheriff stormed the rest of the house, clearing each room before joining Hotch and Bishop in the living room. Piper had her fingers resting on her holster as she glanced between her boss, the father and the mother.

“Did you know?” Hotch demanded.

“Don't know what you're talking about!” The father interrupted.

“Not for sure,” the wife said, timidly. “Not until last night. He came home covered in blood.”

“He's not here. But the window's open,” the sheriff reported.

“It's not the first time you've washed blood out of his clothes, is it?” Hotch pressed her, growing more and more aware of Owen’s state of panic.

“Don't answer them, Martha!” the father yelled.

“Sit down and shut up!” Hotch retorted and Piper watched her boss with new eyes as he turned to the young woman. “Look, I promise you that he will never hurt you again.”

“No,” she said slowly, her voice small. “It wasn’t.”

“Mrs Porter,” Piper tried. “I understand you’re trying to protect Owen, but you can’t anymore.”

“He's always been different. He's not like us. When he was a little boy, he used to go out into the woods and come home covered in blood.”

“How did Owen react when Joshua was sent away?”

“He wanted to leave, too. But I couldn't let him.” Piper sighed, rubbing her face as she turned away from the family.

“Mrs Porter, do you have any idea what social isolation does to a child?” Spencer asked fiercely.

“I was afraid of what he might do if he ever left here. We knew. We knew what he was.” But things were starting to go from bad to significantly worse as the sheriff answered his cell.

“We’ve got a problem. Joshua managed to shake Deputy Stiller, and someone reported a hunting party going into the woods.”

“God, they’re gonna hunt Owen,” Piper breathed, glancing at Hotch. Her boss called in Rossi. They needed to predict Owen’s next move and Hotch made his way back to the Porters.

“Was there a place he went to be alone? A hiding spot when you were mad at him?”

“Hiding spot. How the hell are we supposed to know?” Mr Porter spat out.

“If you know, you need to tell me. I'm trying to help him. There's a mob out there, and if they find him, they're not gonna turn him over. They're gonna take justice into their own hands. If you value your son's life, you need to help me.”

“Martha, don't!” A pregnant pause hung in the air as Martha Porter considered her choices. But there was no choice.

“Lake Lafayette. He and Joshua built a fort there when they were younger.”

“You'll need a boat upriver to get there.”

“He’s headed to the harbour,” Reid realised, and the unit sprinted to the car. The sheriff warned Mr Porter that he’d be back to arrest him too and left with the federal agents. While Hotch drove, Piper called Morgan’s satellite phone, alerting him to the plan.

Owen jumped from the planked dock onto the small boat below, rifle in hand. He looked up to see Hotch, the sheriff and Reid in full view, guns aimed straight at him. He turned to run the other way, only to find three men from his own town, Josh included, aiming rifles straight at him. “Drop the weapons and back away,” Hotch ordered.

“Back down, Keith,” the sheriff tried. “We're in control now.”

“What are you gonna do, Steve? He's 16. Send him back to juvie so he's out in 2 years? He killed Brenda,” Keith replied.

“He killed my mom,” Josh added.

“He needs help, and he will be held accountable for his crimes,” Hotch tried again.

“Accountable? 5 people are dead,” Josh said bitterly. “Why'd you do it, Owen? Huh? Why'd you kill her?”

“You left me behind.”

“You killed my mom!”

“She sent you away! You left and you didn't come back. 8 years and I never heard from you again.”

“Please, just let us take him in,” Reid pleaded.

“Sorry. I can't. I know what you're saying is right, But I can't do it.”

“I'm terribly sorry for your loss, but please just put your guns down so no one else gets hurt,” Reid tried again.

“Are you kidding? You're outnumbered and outgunned. Who do you think has the higher ground here?”

“I’m pretty sure we do,” Rossi announced, flanked by Emily, Piper and Derek. The two men on Joshua’s side raised their hands before releasing their rifles to the floor, but Joshua kept his trained on the boy he had considered his brother.

“Wh-What are you doing?”

“It’s over, Joshua. I’m sorry,” Keith apologised.

“He killed my mom!” Josh cried, being met with silence. Having his answer, Joshua turned his gaze to Owen, ready to shoot when he felt his legs give out from under him. Derek raised his eyebrows at Piper who had stabbed her foot behind his knee, tripping him over and grabbing the rifle. Rossi jumped over onto the boat to cuff the younger boy as Bishop holstered her gun, passing the rifle to Derek. Joshua grumbled, accepting Keith’s hand up. Piper followed Derek’s pace as they made their way back to the tavern, having made another happy ending. Derek shot Piper a raised eyebrow.

“Hotch’s been trying to kick my ass in training.”

“Whatever he’s doing, it’s working,” Derek grinned as the sun started to set behind them.

JJ and Emily started packing files and Garcia’s computers in the lounge while Derek, Piper and Spencer formed a chain, tossing suitcases which Hotch and Rossi packed in a car outside as Penelope packed in the satellite uplink. But half-way through, she felt a calming breeze float by and turned a corner to where she’d spied the body that night. Having finished packing, Spencer and Piper packed themselves into the car with Hotch and Rossi as Derek moved over to where Garcia stood in the bracing wind. “Sucks, doesn’t it?” Derek started.

“What?”

“Just knowing that we couldn’t have done any of this without you.” The redhead scoffed.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Derek took off his sunglasses, moving closer.

“I’m proud of you Penelope,” he said, still an inch behind her. “Despite everything, you came back and you got the job done.”

“The sight of blood used to make me run away. And two nights ago, I ran towards it.” Derek stretched an arm out to turn her around to face him.

“It means you're changing into someone stronger than you realize. You cared enough to risk your own life to try and save someone else.”

“Yeah, but... What's the difference between being strong and being jaded? I'm scared, Derek,” she said tearfully. “I don't want to lose who I am just so I can do this job.” Derek turned his gaze to the wilderness around him and Penelope followed it.

“We are in one of the most beautiful places on Earth. I know you see that don't you?”

She nodded. “Yeah.” He raised his hand again to hold her chin, using a thumb to stroke a tear away.

“Then we have nothing to worry about. It's who you are, baby girl. You see the beauty in everything and everyone, no matter where you go. That part of you is never gonna change, and I won't let it.”

“I don't need you to protect me.”

“Tough. I think I'm gonna stay on the job a little while longer.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“How much longer?”

“Every day of my life,” he said, leaning in and Penelope blushed.

“I kind of love you, Derek Morgan,” she said, punching his ripped torso and Derek pulled her in for a hug.

“I kinda love you, Penelope Garcia.” They stood there, among withered leaves and naked trees below the snow-capped peaks of Alaska until Rossi yelled at them to get a move on.

* * *

On the flight back, Derek and Emily watched in glee as Spencer failed to teach Piper rudimentary chess strategy, not knowing that Derek had paid her to mess up. "Wait, so why does white always go first?"

"It's just the rule, Piper," Spencer sighed.

"But that's kinda racist!" Derek spluttered behind her and Spencer blushed. "I mean, the psychological implications are a little daunting." She turned to Derek who struggled to hold in a laugh. "Don't you think so?" 

"Well, what's the worst that could happen if black went first?" Derek said and Spencer looked between the two before shrugging lamely and proceeding to explain the role of each piece, Piper adjusting her earphones gently as she listened to him. He finished, explaining that the king could only move two spaces.

"That's ridiculous!" Piper exclaimed. "He's the king!"

"He's the most important piece of the game."

"He's useless. The queen should stage a coup."

"She can't-"

"Why's he waging a war anyway? It's not like a war was won by killing particular pawns. You have to kill everyone."

"Not if you kill the king."

"Okay, but where are all the weapons? And can I have a nuclear bomb?" Spencer stared at his girlfriend.

"N-No, you can't." Piper sighed sadly.

"So do we play now?"

"Are you sure?" Piper nodded as JJ sidled up behind Spencer, a small camera tucked into her shirt collar. Emily sat on the other end of the jet, obscured from view as she whispered instructions into Piper's earbuds. Derek snickered at Piper fake hesitation and Spencer's over-confidence. About ten minutes in, Spencer stared at the board confused.

"Something wrong, Pretty Boy?" Derek joked and Spencer looked up.

"That- That's checkmate in 4. H-How?" Piper finally broke at Spencer's confused face, handing over her earphone to Spencer.

" _How you doing?"_ Emily's voice teased from the wire and he glanced between the three of them.

"I'm gonna kill you, Derek."


End file.
